Dreamdeath
in a saffron sari
and a lime-green leotard,
came death;
her great, dark eyes
agleam with terrible passion.
we made
an unearthly tumult
of love.
she laughed easily,
snored and slept
fitfully at my side;
snatches of her disturbed
dream conversation
clawed me regularly.
time and light bent there
in that wet, warm web;
my penchant for exactitude
in recollection
gone impotent.
all in all
a sensate swoon
that endured...
nine months?
ninety-some-odd moons?
a few decades?
the burial blow:
her well turned back
turned to me eternally.
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